Tom Cruise is continuing his run of trying to make people think he’s less of a massive mental, religious freak.

First he stopped jumping around like a particularly stupid chimp, he stopped going on about Scientology in public - though he did see some of his private video collection released, much to the delight/terror (delete as appropriate) of the general public - and he’s seeing some rave reviews flying about for his small role in Tropic Thunder. So what next?

Well, it’s obvious isn’t it? Star in a superhero film, and get someone like Sam Raimi on board to produce. Which is, apparently, what’s being pushed for by Tom Cruise and Warner Bros, who own the rights to Sleeper - a short running comic book series from a few years back. Well, Raimi’s already on board, but you get the point.

And you can’t fault the man’s logic.

The rumoured decision happily fits in with our theory that Hollywood is physically incapable of having an original thought, ever, ever, ever. It also fits in with the current logic that if you make a film of a comic book it will make a lot of geeks wet with anticipation, thus creating millions upon millions of dollars to line the executive’s pockets with. And we all know how much they love money over there in movieland.

Valuing cash over creativity, honesty or integrity? Say it ain’t so! Ahem.

It appears, if reports are to be believed, that the latest in the line of films the studios hope will emulate the success of Spider-Man 3 and The Dark Knight is an adaptation of Sleeper - a limited series that ran from 2003-05 from the Wildstorm Universe and written by Ed Brubaker, whose writing credits include some work on X-Men and Captain America comics, amongst many others.

It does strike us that such a smalltime comic wouldn’t be the best of the potential earners out there for the studios and actors, but hey ho - it’s their money to waste and, who knows, they might get it right.

They won’t. But, you know - we are the bastions of truth, glory and optimism in the world of the internet. Wait, what? We’re not? Ah crap, Stu isn’t going to be happy…

The connection of Tom Cruise with the project has come about through the usual web of lies/rumours that prop up countless websites across the world, though it did originate at somewhere half-decent in the shape of The Hollywood Reporter, meaning we can leave it to them to explain the finer points:

Written by Ed Brubaker with art by Sean Phillips, “Sleeper,” which ran from 2003-05, centers on an operative whose fusion with an alien artifact makes him impervious to pain and allows him to pass it on to others through skin contact. He is placed undercover in a villainous organization by an intelligence agency and falls for a member of the group, named Miss Misery.

Which sounds absolutely ideal for some big names to get attached to, a plethora of nerds to claim they read the book when it first came out (even though they picked it up off eBay on hearing the news a film was in the making) and a film to come out and get critically panned, while earning a small amount of cash.

You heard it here first.

We should also point out: superpowers afforded by the film adaptation still won’t allow Tom Cruise to keep pizzas warm using magic. Just thought we should point that out yet again.

Roseanne Barr isn’t really known for being particularly funny, but this time she’s managed to make us all laugh.

See, there are times when celebrities get angry at other celebrities - they usually mean a few cross words and not much else. We smirk at these times. We enjoy. We forget.

Then there are times when a celebrity unleashes a furious rant at other celebrities - and this is exactly what Roseanne Barr has gone and done, and in whose direction?

Why, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, of course. The easiest of the targets, as we all know too well.

The internet is a wonderful thing - once we would have to wait for weeks or even months to hear of the spats between two sets of people we don’t know and are unlikely to ever meet. Now, thanks to the popularity and ease of use of blogs, we get to know about even the smallest of arguments straight from the horse’s mouth.

Or Roseanne’s mouth, which - let’s be honest here - isn’t particularly horsey. More beastly.

Yes, she who was on that there Roseanne programme has gone and vented her spleen about the king and queen of celebritydom, starting out on estranged grandpappy Jon Voight but soon moving on to Brad and Angie, slating them for their adoption practices, their charity donations and their political opinions - or lack thereof.

Oh, and she’s only gone and included a passage that very much stands out as something a hecklerspray writer would be proud to unleash on the world.

On the other hand, it does make Roseanne seem utterly, utterly mad and throws the whole matter into question. If it were a reasoned and generally normal person making this post then maybe there would be more credibility behind it, but as it stands, it’s a mad old woman being a bit mad and old.

But who cares? It’s a funny rant! And it went a little something like this:

“jon voight your evil spawn angelina jolie and her vacuous hubby brad pitt make about forty million dollars a year in violent psychopathic movies and give away three of it to starving children”

Take into account this is printed verbatim, warts, lack of punctuation and all. But Rosey went on and unleashed this beaut, which has to go down as one of the finest sentences a comedian in the decline of her career has said about two top-of-their-game A listers:

“trying to look as if they give a crap about humanity as they spit out more dunces that will consume more than their fair share and wreck the earth even more. (just sayin’).”

It’s got venom, it’s got righteous fury and - best of all - it’s got a half-arsed, abbreviated semi-withdrawal at the end of it. That’s a sentence of kings, really. It demands respect while spitting out fury. But did it stop there? Did it bollocks. The ex-fake wife of John Goodman was obviously just hitting her (typing) stride:

“do you not know that the african daughter you hold in every picture had parents who suffered and died because of the republican party’s worldwide economic assault on africa over the last few decades since reagan?”

Obviously she went on even more, confusing us just as much as she made us splutter our Coco Pops all over our fancy new keyboard, but the choicest pick has to come from how she signs the post off:

“Ps….it might be good for your asian and african children’s self esteem to know you support a brown man for the leader of the free world.”

We can’t help but be conflicted about the whole thing. On one hand it’s utterly hilarious, on the other she does need to take a step back to take another look, calm herself down and probably have a nap, as she seems a bit cranky.

Either way, Roseanne Barr has amused hecklerspray for the first time in our life - marrying Tom Arnold didn’t count, that was a cheap shot - and that’s got to be worth at least something.

Read the Rest of it Here:

Roseanne’s blog

We all know what’s been happening with Britney Spears in recent times - the vast majority of her life seems to have adorned these very pages over the last couple of years.

But no one seems to have put any real thought into how this has affected the girl on a financial level - yes, we’ll all happily point out that she’s gone mental, we’ll laugh (and wince) when we see her ladybits on show in public and we’ll wonder why she’s such a glutton for punishment when she’s rumoured to make a second appearance at the MTV VMAs.

Then, when all the other news has run out, when she’s calmed down and stopped being as mad, when the kids are safely hidden away with Kevin Federline, people start resorting to cold, hard figures. Namely the ones that say Britney Spears has spent around $700,000 on legal fees trying to get her kids back.

Then the smirk about the situation fades and we are left feeling a bit bad for her again. She’s got quite good at making us not take the piss out of her, actually. The crafty wench.

Whereas the lawyers working on the legal battle between Britney and K-Fed, regarding custody of their children, aren’t just crafty - they’re incredible, evil geniuses. One attorney involved in the case was raking in a reported $700 per hour - PER HOUR - for her services. Now, we all know parasi… lawyers are renowned for being expensive, but by god that’s insane.

The fact that the $407,000 that this Stacy Phillips is claiming is for four months work, well - it makes the blood drip out of our eyes with more force than we’ve ever seen before. There’s rage, anger, vitriol and righteous fury, then there’s this. And we don’t know what it is yet - we need another naming session. Answers below, kids.

Compare Phillips’ rates to those of Britney’s family lawyer, who was re-hired and managed to negotiate increased visitation rights for the mentally fragile poplet - $60,000 for two months work. Still a hell of a lot of money, but Jesus H tapdancing fuckery it isn’t nearly half a million dollars.

The hecklerspray sarcasm/reasonably funny quip generating machine seems to have broken in the wake of this news, being replaced by one that only produces sheer, undiluted rage. Oh well - the shoe still fits.

The question could be raised to the lawyers involved in this case of “how do you sleep at night?” but the simple answer would clearly be that of Rainier Wolfcastle from The Simpsons, who when asked the same question responded: “On top of a pile of money, with many beautiful women.”

Or they’d just gleefully ignore the question and drive off in a money-filled car, to a house made of platinum-laced gold to eat money salad with sauteed money and a side dish of roast money. The absolute, god-awful parasites. They haven’t even managed to get Britney her kids back, so what’s the point in paying them? Surely they’re not worth that much.

Surprisingly enough - or not - the fees are being contested by Britney Spears’ current legal team. Who are probably on more than minimum wage themselves, let’s be honest here, and while the girl can afford it, it doesn’t mean she should be fleeced endlessly.

In fact, she should probably donate some cash our way for being really nice to her.

For years the Rolling Stones have been giving hope to the dead and the nearly dead. Not through their music - no, just in the fact that they can still get around reasonably well without having had an actual pulse in over thirty years. Seriously - its inspiring.

Get on that Lifetime.

OK, well sometimes the hope-giving is through their music. Take a man who was recently in a coma, for instance. His wife plugged some headphones into his ears, blasted I Can’t Get No Satisfaction, and then the guy’s ears started to tremble and bleed. That song does the exact same thing to us. It usually starts 1/3 into verse 1.

The guys ears didn’t really bleed - he miraculously woke up.

Nowadays whenever any of the Rolling Stones make the news, its for things like poon-jabbing a Russian bar-maid who’s so young she’s not entirely sure what communism actually is. Also they make the news for getting hit in the head with coconuts or something, getting those coconut-hit heads operated on (or something), and imbibing their parents by whatever means necessary.

No or something necessary for that last bit of sentence. Allegedly.

The Rolling Stones’ news-worthiness has just been stood on its ear. Suddenly they are famous for good reason. Suddenly they can be looked upon, not as gross and prunish, but as brave and overly-skinned.

Here’s what ContactMusic.com reports on the matter:

“The ROLLING STONES have been hailed unlikely life-savers after waking a British fan from a coma. Sam Carter lost consciousness after contracting severe anaemia but came to when his favourite Stones track, (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction was blasted into his ears. Ironically, the single was the first the retired baker bought when he was a teenager in 1965. Carter, from Stoke, England, was given just a 30 per cent survival rate by doctors, who advised his wife Eva to play his favourite track through headphones strapped to her husband’s head. Carter says, “I suddenly had a burst of energy and knew I had a lot more life left in me and that’s when I woke up - to the sound of the first song I ever bought.”

What Contact Music didn’t tell us in there is that the man who just awoke from the coma, well he’s gonna wait until the girl Geri Halliwell woke from a coma comes of age, and then they’re gonna make ex-coma babies to the beat of an extremely mediocre soundtrack.

Incidentally, there’s a reason Contact Music didn’t tell us any of that.

A very good reason.

Love tunnel, fanny, pleasure hole, hairy pie: these are all names for the female-only body part known as the vagina.

Now, were all aware that some ladies like to sculpt their tits into enormous coconuts for the delight of perverts everywhere. We can accept that. Sometimes we may even like that. Though mostly it does just look a bit silly. Sadly, Sunday night’s TV show - The Perfect Vagina - sunk to a new low on how desperate people are to tweak and mould their bodies.

Plus it had Lisa Rogers on it, which is never a good sign.

Granted, some of the ladies were having surgery on their lower regions to make them look better, if such a thing is possible. But theres something about the sight of an overgrown mess of skin and pubes that made us want to be sick. It also put us off looking at dirty magazines where ladies accidentally expose themselves, which is a cardinal sin.

The show was pretty much dedicated to ladies being poked and prodded in that area. Could this very much be a new world’s biggest penis comment marathon thread with females telling us how big their black hole is? Mine is so big I can hear the echo for five minutes.

If you like programs full of stomach churning images of people randomly showing off their problems then this is for you! Just dont watch it with a girl in the room - shell only get upset, cry and pay 35 (we’d say around $70 for our American friends) to a dodgy bloke claiming to be a doctor, so he can flesh out of her vagina with a bread knife like he would with a grapefruit.

We also assume that the excess skin was made in to poppadoms for Indian restaurants that couldnt afford to buy them from Tesco.

We do love assumptions.